Proxy [l.h]

19. Publicity Stunts and Broken Hearts

«DAY 10 cont.»

Luke

The nurse had lied to me about Jane's death. And out of all the reasons, I had one burning suspicion about why she did. It was an outside force. A bribe, maybe.

I toss onto my other side on the mattress, slinging an arm over my forehead in thought.

First, she would've needed a motive- a reason to lie. So what better motive than Michael Clifford, showing up at her porch with a few charming words and a wad of bills? It only made sense. Who else would want to destroy my love life so badly except for Michael?

Michael could've been at Eunice's house that day, way before I was, and easily bribed her to lie. He could've wanted me to believe Jane was dead so I'd stop looking for her...and then he'd steal Lissa away from me.

But the question is, how did he find Eunice before I did?

My mind fills with a thousand maybes and paranoia as the suspicion grows into something bigger. It was just a small seed of an idea at first, but the more I think about it, the more it makes sense. My blood starts to boil underneath my skin. Michael, my former best friend, was following us through Cali, stealing our clues, and manipulating the people around me.

I don't want to believe it myself, but it only makes sense. Because not so long ago, I'd stolen something from Michael, too. Something equally as important to him, and the person he loved the most. So it was only fair. I couldn't be angry at Michael for trying to do the same thing to me.

Michael, who used to be my best friend- Michael, who I'd ruined, just because I was a fucking coward who refused to tell the truth. The day it happened - A February two years ago - comes back to me crystal clear. Neither of us had forgotten that day. And it only took a few pills for me to feel remorseful about it again.

+

"Daddy, I don't know," Amber had said with false sweetness, but the disapproval on her face was clear. "I know you think I'm a slut and all, but this sounds like the stupidest idea ever." Her face ashen, she crossed her arms, her fifteen different rose-gold bangles clashing against each other.

"Stop with the sarcasm," Ben snapped, and one look from him made Amber glance away in shame.

He looked down at the newspaper on his desk, adjusting his glasses to read an article about bell peppers. We were forced to stand right in front of him, waiting.

When he finished, my publicist leaned back in his office chair, facing his glamour-obsessed teenage daughter. He looked older than usual- his thick brown hair showed sign of white strands and curling at the nape of his neck- and it seemed like the forming creases of wrinkles in his forehead and cheek had grown more prominent. On top of that, his shirt matched the suffocating beige colour of the wall behind him. His new office in New York was drab- with all-beige walls and matching curtains and shelves, and gave off the textbook feeling of a yawn-worthy publicist's office. We were stationed here in New York for a few months because our new composer had business here. I didn't like the noise, but Michael liked the clubs, Calum loved the food, and Ashton had never really minded where we travelled. Once again, I was just deemed the grumpy one.

"It only makes sense. If you and Luke are linked, it'll boost your publicity," Ben said to Amber, flipping another page in the paper. "And how well are your modelling ads doing right now?" He mocked.

Amber flushed in embarrassment, her reddened cheeks matching her limited-edition Jimmy Choo heels. Her perfume was also from Jimmy Choo, and I fucking hated it. It was one of those fragrances that was so strong it fogged up an entire room. Plus, it smelled like the Saturday night Chess tournament at a senior home. But standing next to her, I had to get a whiff of it every three seconds.